World After Voldemort
by Donna Vito Frutti
Summary: After the War, many students return to repeat a year at Hogwarts, Hermione being one of them. The Ministry works with her to usher in new policies. Because who better than a War Hero. She seeks an ally among the Slytherins, especially Pure Bloods. And who better than their 'Prince' himself, Draco Malfoy. Each chapter is a glimpse into their lives. MAY NOT BE IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
1. Scars

**SCARS THEY LEFT**

Blood purity. Two words. Small, insignificant. Quite a contrast to all the havoc wrecked in its name.

"Come with me, Malfoy."

"Why?"

"I want you to understand something. I want _myself_ to understand something."

"What?"

Hermione didn't reply but proceeded to drag him by his arm.

"Get your hands off me, Granger."

Hermione let go and whipped around so fast that a lock of her hair almost brushed against his face.

"If you don't come with me _right now_ , Malfoy, I'll hex you with the nastiest curse possible!" She had her wand out, for good measure. "I'm not joking," she threatened.

"I'm unarmed!" Draco cried, indignantly.

"I don't effing care," she snapped.

Draco followed her to the fireplace, confused, but thinking it wise not to argue.

"Give me your arm." Draco did as he was asked.

Hermione brought his arm closer to the light and then pulled up his sleeve.

" _What the hell are you doing_?" Draco snarled, surprised, and tried to push it back down, but she held onto his arm and didn't let go.

"Look!" She said, pulling up her own sleeve and placing her arm side by side with his. "Look."

Draco froze, suddenly realising what she wanted him to see. He reluctantly looked down at it, as she insisted again. Carved on her forearm, was the word _'_ mudblood _'._

"Do you see that? That's the scar your aunt left on me. It will never quite heal. I'll always carry it on me. That's what Pure Blood Supremacy does. That's what hatred actually means. Killing some and torturing some others. All because you think you are better than everyone else. It's all _bullshit_ , because we are all _people_ in the end. Here, touch it, Malfoy, _feel_ it _."_ She brought his hand close to hers so that they were touching, and their marks were side by side. "Flesh and blood. Just like you, Malfoy. _Flesh and blood._ Human. Does it feel different? Look, I've even got a mark of my own.

"You know how I got this. You were there that night. So tell me, did I deserve this? Is this what you had in mind when you joined the ranks of death eaters? To be a killer and a torturer? Answer me."

Draco flinched at the accusation and the fury emanating from her. Slowly, painstakingly, he said a single word.

"No."

"So don't ever talk to me about blood purity, Malfoy!"

Hermione glared at him, challenging him to defend himself. He didn't.

Draco could still see the Dark Mark out of the corner of his eye, though, and he wanted it out of sight. He pulled up his sleeves again to hide the obscene, sneering symbol of his past. Something stirred in him.

"I am sorry for what my aunt did to you," Draco finally said, looking up. "Actually harming another person was never something I thought becoming a Death Eater would entail. I became one, so I could redeem my family. Elevate us in the eyes of the Dark Lord, you see, because we actually feared for our lives, in the end."

"Don't give me the whole victim of circumstances shit, Malfoy."

"I'm telling it like it is. You may want to blame me for your entire misfortune, Granger, and perhaps it is easier to target me since you already hated me," Draco said, his voice rising, "but I did not do that to you." He pointed to her forearm. "I am not responsible for the actions of my aunt."

"Maybe not, Malfoy. You may not have hurt anyone yourself, but you supported their beliefs for a long time, you still do. And that makes you just as guilty as your aunt or the Dark Lord or any of the Death Eaters. You only backed out because you were too much of a coward to fully commit to either side."

Draco smiled coldly. "Ah yes, talking about the right side must be so easy when there's Voldemort on the other -"

"-Easy?" Hermione looked livid.

"-You didn't have the Dark Lord set up in your home and have a muggle fed to a snake right in front of you-"

 _"-Easy?"_

"-you didn't have to worry about the Dark Lord losing his temper and murdering your parents-"

"-you think it is easy to wipe your parents' memory of you and send them off to God-knows-where? You think it is easy watching the people you know and love die in front of you?" Hermione was livid. She drew herself up to her full height. "None of it was easy, Malfoy, "Hermione said. " _None_ of it."

Malfoy was still not done. "And what makes you think it was any easier for me? What's with the self righteousness, Granger? Do you really believe you are better than me, because you never believed in blood purity? And what would you even know about choices?

You had the whole wizarding world backing you, praying for your safety. Saving the world. You did not have to worry about the safety of your family. Pretty convenient, don't you think, wiping your parents' memory and sending them off far? Frees you up to traipse around the world on the back of a dragon, doesn't it? Oh yes, I read. Probably even eases your conscience. Gives you time off to play the hero-"

"-that is not fair, Malfoy."

"-None of this was fair, Granger," he snapped, cutting her across. His anger was barely concealed. He gripped the chair so hard that his knuckles turned white. " _None_ of this."

They stood staring daggers at each other, each refusing to back down.

And then-

"I'm glad we had that sorted out," Hermione said.

"Good."

They both looked away. Malfoy sat down in the sofa and busied himself with the book. Hermione bent over her desk and pored over the scrolls once again. They worked until supper.

They ate in compete silence. When it was over, Hermione levitated the dishes to the sink and then went out onto the balcony. She felt she needed some fresh air and clarity.

It was wrong of her to lash out at him like that. Sure, he was a death eater once, but he was not responsible for all the death and destruction that Voldemort caused. And, despite everything, he had protected them that night in the manor in the best way he could.

Malfoy was right. He may have been on the side of Death Eaters, but he was never one of them. Not really. It was unfair to blame him for the crimes of his family. Or, even, for all the little spats they had at school since their first year. Which now seemed silly.

And he may be proud of his blood and lineage still, but he was no longer blind to the fact that he had once supported a murderer. Or that he had almost become one himself. War had changed him. It had changed everyone.

But hearing the words _blood purity,_ uttered so casually, had brought back some of the terrors of that night. And a lot of other nights. And the memory of numerous lives lost in the war. And a lot of other memories. The cruelty of the Voldemort's reign had left quite a trail of red.

It was disturbing how an ideal defined by two little words had caused so much pain and suffering in the world.

Hermione wanted to be sure Draco understood he had been on the wrong side. Not because that side had lost, but because everything that side did and believed in were so obviously _wrong._ And not just for his sake, but for her sake, as well. If Draco was indeed redeemed and redeemable, then there was still room for hope in the world. She needed that hope.

The wizarding world banked on that hope, too.

There was a time when Hermione would have liked to imagine that Draco stood by laughing in glee as his father and aunt tortured muggles for fun, or that he even joined in from time to time. But deep down, she knew that was hardly the case. It was not as easy as the world being split into those who chose Good and those who chose Evil. Sometimes, you just didn't have a choice.

And that day in the manor had shown her something different. A scared young man, caught in the midst of it all, wanting an out but seeing none.

She briefly wondered what that was like. Her choices had been clear from the beginning. But then again, her parents had never been prejudiced maniacs, either.

Sins of our fathers. _.._ it caught up to us, eventually.

And if not for that incident in the Eighth Year common room, she never would have thought of Draco as a victim, either.

Truth is, no one really escaped the war unscathed.

Some nights, she could almost feel Bellatrix's breath on her neck again. And the pressure of cold steel against her skin...

Feeling tired, Hermione returned to her room. She was surprised to find Draco lying on one side of her bed, atop the covers. Quickly recovering, she made to the other side, and slipped under the covers. Draco didn't move.

"That was quite a conversation, earlier."

"Things needed to be said. And heard."

They both stared up at the ceiling. Sighing, Hermione spoke. "Don't worry, Malfoy. We can go back to hating each other when we're safely back home."

Softly, so Hermione had to almost strain herself to hear, Draco spoke.

"I never hated you, Granger. Not really."

The war changed people. It provided them clarity. It showed them who they really were. Hermione closed her eyes.

"Yeah, me neither."

Just as she drifted off to sleep, she felt Draco rise and make his way to his own room. He shut the door gently behind him.

* * *

 **A/N:**

How awesome is that I'm listening to Nirvana right now?

Come as you are, as you were As I want you to be As a friend, as a friend As a known enemy Take your time, hurry up Choice is yours, don't be late Take a rest as a friend As an old Memoria, memoria Memoria, memoria


	2. Living Arrangements

"It would seem we have a problem."

"You think so?"

In front of them was a nice, cosy bed, which, although could more than accommodate a person comfortably, was definitely no King Size.

"Looks like we have a hard choice to make." Hermione looked pointedly at him. "We better get on with it, then."

"Yeah." With the air of a martyr, Draco continued, "So you take the sofa and I'll take the bed."

"What?" Hermione sounded surprised. "You want _me_ to sleep on the sofa? You're no gentleman, Malfoy!"

Malfoy let out a laugh. "No, I believe in equality, Granger. Besides, I think I deserve to get the bed."

"How do you figure that?"

"I'm used to a certain lifestyle, you see, and, of course, we are not going to share the bed, and I wouldn't fit into the sofa. I should get the bed."

Hermione glared daggers at him.

"You have spent almost half your life sleeping in the dungeons at Hogwarts. I'm sure your lifestyle can suffer a night of setback."

"The Slytherin beds are quite fluffy, I'll have you know." Draco said, indignantly.

"Well, I've had my share of camping in forests and sleeping on tent floors. I should get the bed." Hermione said, hands on her hips.

"Whatever, Granger."

Resolutely, Draco unbuttoned his hand cuffs, pulled down his sleeves, walked over to a side of the bed and flopped down on it. "I'm staying right here."

"Fine," Hermione snapped. "I'll take the cold, hard floor."

"Don't be dramatic, Granger. No one ever died from a night of discomfort."

Draco watched as Hermione huffed and puffed and got the the sheets and pillow down on the floor. It took a while to determine the most comfortable arrangement. And then she took a look at her work and groaned.

"Granger, wait!"

Hermione paused just as she was about to lie down.

"How about," Draco said. He took a deep breath and continued through gritted teeth, "we _share_ the bed?"

Hermione looked up at him.

"Gee. Didn't realise your lifestyle included sharing your bed."

"I'm not heartless. And I suppose I'm a gentleman."

"Took you long enough."

"So how about it?"

Hermione considered for a moment. "Oh I dunno know. Sharing a dormitory is one thing..."

"Sharing a bed is a different matter altogether?" Draco smirked. "Look, I'll keep this side free, in case you change your mind."

Having said that, Draco pulled the covers over himself, trying to drift off to sleep.

A few Moments later, Hermione joined him in bed on the other side, carrying all the sheets and the pillow back.

"Try anything funny and I'll hex you," she said as a matter of fact.

"Don't worry," Draco said, his eyes still closed. "We both know you don't need a wand to hurt my face."

Hermione laughed at that. And when she turned to face him, she could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.


	3. To Trick or Not To Trick

Hermione suddenly cast a non-verbal and his wand clattered across the floor, a long way away from them.

Draco folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her.

"You can't go. I won't let you."

 _"Excuse me?"_

"I'm the heir of the Malfoy Manor, Granger. It listens to my command. All I have to do is snap my fingers and the whole place will be locked against you. Meaning, you won't be able to leave."

"So why haven't you done that already?"

"Because I wanted you to listen to reason, first."

"This is absurd. Stand aside or I'll hurt you."

"No." Draco looked at her, resolutely. Hermione glared at him.

"Stand aside, Malfoy."

"No." Draco inched closer until he felt her wand against his chest. "You'll have to make me, I guess."

Hermione cursed. "Damn it, Malfoy. Why do you even care?"

Draco reached across and caught her wrist.

"You know exactly why, Granger," he said. "Or was I just a means to warm your lonely bed at night. With the weasel gone, did you just need someone to take care of your burning loi-"

Hermione flicked her wand and the side of his face stung. Draco cried out, but did not let go of her.

"Careful now, Malfoy. Have a care how you speak," She growled.

Draco turned back to her. "That was unworthy of me. I'm not letting you go, though."

Hermione sighed. "What do you want from me, Draco?"

"Let's start with you admitting it, Granger. I want you to admit why you have been shacking up with me."

"Do you really think now is the best time for this?" Hermione snapped.

Draco tightened his grip on her. It hurt a bit, but Hermione took care not to show it.

"Admit it."

"Let go."

"No."

They glared at each other some more.

"Fine." After a long moment, Hermione breathed out. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

"Fine, I'll admit it." She raised her face to look at him. "I care, Malfoy. I have cared for a long time now. And I love being with you." She lowered her wand and Draco stepped forward to close the distance between them.

"I care about you," Hermione repeated. "Heck, I might even..." She caught herself just in time.

"Hermione..."

Hermione buried her face against his chest. Draco held her and stroked her hair, absently.

"I care about you, too, Hermione." He said, gently. "Which is why I can't just let you go alone."

Hermione looked up. Before Draco could react, she flicked her wand for the second time. _Petrificus Totalus._

"Too bad."

Draco stiffened as the body-bind curse took effect. And then he fell backwards.

Hermione slowed him with a spell so that he gently came to rest on the floor. Another spell, and he hovered towards his bed and fell against the pillows.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but I have got to go" she said. There will be hell to pay later.

 _I might even._ She cursed herself for being so stupid.

* * *

 _Later_

* * *

Hermione knocked at his door, but didn't wait for an answer as she entered his room.

Draco was standing near his full-length mirror, and was dressing. He turned to look at her as she came in.

"You," He said, nonchalantly.

"You tricked me."

Hermione didn't answer.

Draco watched her for a moment before turning back to the mirror in front of him. "Not a scratch on you. You got off alright, then? Looks like I needn't have worried about you."

Hermione didn't answer.

"That's alright. I won't bother in future," He said, starting to button up his shirt.

"I don't want you to stop," Hermione said. "Here, let me help."

Draco watched her from the mirror as she came over. Hermione didn't look away as he turned to her. She placed a hand on his chest, and looked back at him, as though waiting for him to resist.

Draco drew in a long breath but didn't stop her. Hermione reached out and started to button up his shirt.

As she reached the very last one, Draco sighed.

"You tricked me," he stated, softly.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cover half of it, Granger. It almost makes a man wonder," Draco said. "Have you been tricking me from the very beginning?"

"Stop it, Draco!"

"No, really. Which was the actual trick today? Was it you binding me so I wouldn't stop you from getting yourself killed? Or was it you telling me you cared about me?"

"Draco, please. You know which."

"I'm not entirely sure I do. Not anymore." Draco turned away from her.

"Draco," Hermione said, unable to keep the pleading from her voice. "I need you. You're the only one here that I actually trust-"

"Are you confessing to using me, then?" Draco interrupted.

"No!" Hermione protested vehemently. "You're the only one I can trust to lead the Resistance when," she paused, as Draco whipped around sharply. Hermione continued _, "if_ something were to happen to me. And I _need_ _you_. Not just-" Hermione swallowed, and tried again, "not just for the Resistance..."

A pause. And then-

"You give yourself too much credit, Granger," Draco said, drily. A characteristic smirk appeared in his face. It was just as quickly gone when it was evident that Hermione was actually being _very_ serious.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Draco said, firmly. "I won't allow it." He made as if to touch her but Hermione shrugged it off.

"It's not me I'm worried about." She said, looking at him. "Draco, I can't lose you. Everyone I care about ends up d- and every time I wake up in the morning, I ask myself what I would do without-without you." she paused as her voice broke.

"Well, I have that effect, I'm told," Draco said, and Hermione laughed through a sob. Draco grinned down at her.

"Although, to be fair, you seem to be doing extremely well by yourself."

He held her lightly, and threaded through her hair.

"Did you mean what you said earlier today?" He asked, softly. "You know, the _care_ part?"

"Of course." Hermione looked up at him.

"But that didn't stop you from distracting me with it. From catching me off guard and leaving me bound while you went gallivanting off."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said.

Draco gazed at her for a moment. "So you can be very ruthless sometimes, then. Even bitchy."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "I deserve that. I suppose. Not very sure, though."

Draco lifted her face to him, so her eyes met his.

"That was a compliment," he said. "I like the way you think. I would probably have done it myself, in your place."

Hermione smiled, and leaned in to his touch. "I know I'm not the most emotionally available person and that I can be pretty distant and indifferent," she said. "But I do care about you. I have cared since our Eighth year together. Since our first kiss. And even after, when you found me...after the Ministry incident…and after that night...I want you to know that. And I have never used you."

A pause.

"I believe you, Granger. I have cared about you for a long time, too."

Hermione smiled as she looked up at him.

"Did it hurt?" She said, touching his cheek.

"A bit," he said.

"I'm sorry."

Draco shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. Let's just not make a habit of it."

He took her hand in his, and pressed his lips to it. Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling. Draco leaned in and kissed the side of her face.

She turned her face up towards him and he planted a kiss on her jawline.

Hermione stood on her toes and reached up to brush her lips against his face where she had stung him with the hex.

Draco snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. The feel of her lips took a lot of the sting away, as she kissed it better. Again. And again.

He then pulled her up against him, just as Hermione wound an arm around his neck, a leg around his waist, and clutched at his hair to kiss him fully on his lips.

Draco kissed her back as his other hand buried itself in her hair.

Again. And again.

They broke away.

"You look great, all dolled up." He said, after a time, eyeing her.

"We have our little meeting with the Ministers, remember?" Hermione fingered his tie. "I'm almost in the mood to skip it, and do something else worth our while."

"So what's stopping us?" Draco grinned. He leaned in as if to kiss her.

Something poked Hermione in the back. But before she could react-

"Petrificus Totalus."

A scowl froze on her face, as her body stiffened. Before she fell backwards, however, Draco caught her.

"I might not be an expert in the non-verbal version, but I do know how to time it."

He picked her up, carried her to her room through the secret portal, and deposited her on the bed.

He looked at her. "You will be out till tomorrow. Better get some shut eye in the mean time."

Hermione glowered at him.

"Aw, come on, Granger, have a sense of humour. It's just a dose of your own medicine. We'll see how you like it in the morning."

As she continued to look daggers at him, Draco leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

"And don't worry, love. I'll tell the others that their much decorated leader is taking a much deserved nap. I'm sure they'll understand."

He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and rose to leave.

* * *

She might even what? He hadn't asked. Besides, he might even, too. Plenty of time for that later.


	4. Den of snakes

"Is there room for more in here?" Daphne asked as she stood by.

Pansy looked about to say something, but Theo cut across her.

"Of course." Pansy looked crossly at him but said nothing.

Blaise followed Daphne into the compartment. He sat across from Theo next to the window, while Daphne chose to sit next to Theo.

"Hi," Blaise said. Everyone nodded, acknowledging him.

"How were the holidays?" Blaise said, looking around.

There were murmurs of 'fine'.

"Been almost a year, hasn't it?" Daphne said.

"Yeah. It's like one very long holiday. Has anyone heard from the Ministry again?" Blaise asked.

Daphne answered.

"No. I don't think we are going to for at least another week."

"Right."

"Looks like Potter and Weasley aren't going to be with us this year," Draco said, after a while.

"Ah yes. They are the War Heroes. They don't need education." Pansy remarked, sarcastically.

"I'm pretty sure not all of us are back for just the education." Blaise said. "This is like our chance to prove ourselves. A second chance, if you will. And, of course, to bring glory and honour to the Slytherin House."

Pansy looked at him incredulously. Blaise shrugged. "It's what Slughorn said in the letter."

"Granger is back, though." Theo said. "So is Longbottom, Ginny Weasley and some others of their merry crew."

"Granger." Daphne said. "She never misses a chance to pass her tests with flying colours, does she?"

"Well, it's usually a close competition between her and Draco." Pansy said, looking dotingly at Draco.

"No need to remind me," Draco scowled.

"Why is Longbottom back, though? Does he intend to run errands for Professor Sprout?" Zabini said, lightly.

"We all saw him chop off a giant snake's head. He's not to be messed with, I think. I'm sure he will do even better in class, now that there will be no Snape to breathe down his neck. " Daphne said.

"Wonder what happened to Snape in the end." Pansy said. "Did you hear anything?"

"We only know the official story, Pansy, just like you. Apparently, he was working for the Order all along."

"Who would have thought," Daphne said, wonderingly.

"He betrayed us," Draco said, slowly.

"Yes, and thank God he did." Theo said, quietly, looking at Draco. Absently, Draco looked out the window.

"Can you imagine if we had won," Pansy said, sounding wistful.

Daphne and Theo looked at each other.

"We did win, Pansy," Zabini said, pointedly. "It's over now. He's dead."

"You and I have very different ideas of winning," Pansy said, icily.

"Yes, apparently, we do. And thank heavens for that."

Pansy glared at him.

Daphne thought for a while and said.

"You know, maybe we should go over there and make friends," she said, pointing to the compartment opposite them.

Pansy looked at her as though she had gone mad.

"What? With the likes of Longbottom! And a _Mudblood_?"

Everyone in the compartment grew quiet. Theo looked around at Draco who had stiffened visibly.

"We can't go around saying stuff like that anymore." Theo says quietly. "We need to be careful."

Pansy scoffed. "Why, just because they're heroes now?"

"They've always been heroes, but now the entire wizarding Britain knows it," Blaise said."And defeating a dark wizard is no mean feat."

"Sounds almost like you admire them." Theo said, with a small smile.

"Well, they have been doing admirable things lately," Zabini replied. "Am I the only person here who appreciates the fact that V-Vol-the Dark Lord is finally gone? We can breathe the free air, now, thanks to them. No more secrets and lies. I dunno about you, but I, for one, am glad that I can actually relax now."

"We all appreciate it, Blaise. But we can't relax completely just yet. We don't know how the others are going to take to us. I mean," Daphne said, looking around, "you do realise that even the rest of our House members are probably going to be looking at us a little differently, right?"

"This is preposterous!" Pansy exclaimed. "I can't believe we are cowering like cockroaches in here." She turned to Draco for support.

"Draco, you agree with me, right? We are not going to allow ourselves to be seen with their kind? We still have our reputation to maintain."

There was a slight pause where everyone just looked at Draco. Without looking up, he answered.

"Daphne is right," he said. "We can't afford to make any enemies now. Father says it would be a point in our favour if we can get them to vouch for us. Especially with the trials coming up."

"I don't believe this! I don't believe any of you!"

"Oh shut it, Pansy!" Daphne finally snapped. "You never really get it, do you? You always have to make things worse."

"Daphne-" Blaise tried to warn her, but Daphne paid him no mind.

Pansy looked livid. "Me?!"

"Yeah, you. Do you think the whole school has forgotten that you tried to hand Harry Potter over to the Dark Lord?"

Pansy reddened. "I was trying to save our lives." Daphne rolled her eyes, which only made her madder.

"And where do you think you're coming from? You think you have a moral high ground just because you fought in the battle for the winning side?"

"This has nothing to do with winning," Daphne said. "Pansy, if you can't see that things have changed, if you can't _accept it,_ then, I'm sorry but you're dumber than a door nail, and no amount of school education can fix that."

"How dare you!"

"I dare just fine. What about you? Grown a spine, yet?"

There was an awkward silence in the compartment.

"This was a mistake. I don't have to put up with you," Pansy said, finally. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Then, by all means, leave!"

"Fine!"

Pansy rose.

"Pansy," Draco said.

"Oh, go to hell, Malfoy," Pansy snapped. She banged the door on her way out.

"That was harsh," Theo commented.

Daphne sighed. "She had it coming."

"You should cut her some slack. She had it hard last year," Zabini said, looking after Pansy.

Daphne snorted. Draco smirked.

"Please. We all know she likes to create drama wherever she goes."

"You're gonna have a hell to pay, mate. You are supposed to take your girlfriend's side."

"I don't care. And I am not really looking forward to dealing with that sort of thing this year."

"You alright, Draco?" Theo asked.

"I am fine. But I'm not sure how much longer I will be," Draco said, leaning back and closing his eyes. It was obvious to everyone that he was thinking about the trials.

"Holidays," Theo said suddenly, counting on his fingers, "Slughorn. Grades. Girlfriend troubles." He turned to Zabini, smiling. A rare phenomenon.

"It must be nice to be able to talk about such normal things again."

"Yeah," Zabini, said, beaming. "I told you so."

Daphne looked from one to the other. And laughed. Soon, Zabini and Theo joined in. They looked over to Draco, whose lips were slowly curving into a smile, as well.

"Oh Merlin," Zabini said. "I am so glad none of us is dead."

Hours went by as the four of them found themselves talking with abandon, about everything it seemed. After a while, they broke away to follow individual pursuits. Draco was lost in his thoughts again, and Blaise looked outside the window, trying to catch a glimpse of anything interesting. However, Daphne and the usually quiet Theo pretty soon struck up another conversation.

Blaise interrupted them, and brought up the old topic again.

"Say, Daphne." Daphne turned away from Theo to give him her full attention.

"How about going over to their compartment?"

"What, now?"

"It was your idea."

"Yeah. Okay. Um, are you coming along?"

Blaise hesitated.

"Ginny Weasley is in there, you know," Daphne said.

"I don't care if some Weasley spawn is in there," Blaise said, turning to the window again.

"I'll go with you," Theo said, suddenly.

"Alright, then." Daphne drew a deep breath. "Wish us luck."


	5. Back to school

It was a beautiful September morning. It was just perfect, neither too cold nor too hot. The sun was out, there were a few wisps of cloud scattered across the sky, and a gentle breeze caressed her face.

There was the hustle and bustle of people moving about, and the excited chatter of children talking to each other as their parents stood by, looking on with pride and joy.

And the smoke spewed about by the scarlet engine of a train lying in wait on its designated tracks, while she stood beside it on platform nine three-quarters.

It all had a nostalgic quality to it. As though, things were back to normal after a decade or century, when, really, it had only been less than a year.

Hermione Granger was going back to Hogwarts for a repeat year. And she was just as giddy as she had been at eleven.

"Aren't you aboard, yet?"

A voice said behind her. Beaming, Hermione turned around to face two young men.

"What took you so long?" Hermione said, in mock anger.

"Merlin, Hermione, we might be war heroes but even we have to answer to powers higher than us," Ron, the owner of the earlier voice, said.

"And did the Higher Power allow you to stay for a bit?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry laughed. "We need to get back in ten minutes, Hermione."

"Okay."

Hermione embraced both of them.

"I'm gonna miss both you."

"We will miss you too, Hermione," Harry said.

"We really don't know how we are going to survive without you," Ron said. "People have died trying to ace auror training."

"We survived the War, Ron. I'm pretty sure auror training will be a piece of cake."

"Wait till you go into training yourself. You will be singing a different tune,then. I think I'd much rather have a noseless dark wizard chase after me."

They laughed.

"I really can't believe I am going back to school without you two," Hermione said, sobering up. "It's going to be really different."

"Na, you will do great, Hermione," Harry said. "Besides, Neville, Luna and Ginny are gonna be there, too. It will be a blast, I'm sure."

"Where are they?"

"I think they have already boarded."

"Ginny insisted on going with Luna and Neville," Ron said. "My little sister has finally grown up."

"She's been grown up for a while now, Ron," Harry said.

"I refuse to believe that."

Ron, Harry and Hermione went on talking about various things in their lives.

The platform was emptying out, and there were only a couple of minutes until the train pulled out of the station. The porters whistled a warning.

Hermione looked back at the boys.

"It's nearly time."

"Have fun, Hermione," Ron said, and pulled her into a hug.

"You too, Ron."

Harry and Hermione embraced next.

"Keep out of trouble, will you?"

"I will try," Harry said.

Leaving them with a smile, Hermione climbed onto the Hogwarts Express.


	6. The War Heroes' Corner

There was a commotion out in the corridor. Suddenly the door to a compartment banged open. There was a couple of raised voices, and then, just as quickly, the door banged shut, and the hurried footsteps were heard as someone stormed off.

"Looks like the Slytherins had a little spat," Ginny.

"Probably a disagreement on the best method to make our lives miserable this year," Neville said.

"They wouldn't dare," Hermione said, calmly. "I should think, more than anyone, it's probably Purebloods and Slytherins who are under a lot of scrutiny right now."

"How sad," said Luna, staring at the ceiling. "Such undeserved hate and mistrust. All because of a few who made the wrong choice at the wrong time."

"If you ask me, it's a dose of their own medicine," said Neville said, grimly.

"I agree," Ginny said.

"It's still unfair, though, I guess" Hermione said. "Kingsley told me they have come up with a new regulation of sorts for students who are in any way connected to Death Eaters. Just a precaution."

* * *

"If I didn't know any better, I would think they were cosying up to us," Neville said.

Hermione looked up sharply. "Oh, but that's exactly what they're doing. But perhaps they're also coming to us for help."


	7. A Row in the Common Room

"Who died and made you the boss, Granger?"

Hermione felt herself lose her cool.

"All I'm asking is for you to be reasonable and careful," she snapped.

"Oh, and I for one very much think Hermione is the boss around here," said Neville, matter-of-factly, who was then joined by Ginny and Ernie who nodded their agreement.

"Can't we at least vote on it?" said Blaise. "To be fair?"

"Fine, let's vote," Neville said, jumping up. "Who here thinks Hermione should be in charge?"

"Neville, don't," Hermione groaned. But Neville didn't seem to be listening. In fact, nobody seemed to be paying her any mind anymore.

And in less than ten seconds **,** nine hands shot up into the air. Three of them were Hufflepuff. Two of them were Gryffindor, four of them were Ravenclaw (of those, two had belonged to Terry himself, before Neville asked him to put one down), and none of them were Slytherin.

And watching this unexpected show of solidarity unfold before them with severe distrust were five pairs of eyes; all of them Slytherin.

"Figures," said Theo with a scowl. "Everybody loves to gang up on Slytherins."


	8. Out of Control

**Out of control**

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the Golden Trio aren't as golden as they think they are."

"Granger, don't forget that the reason your lot won was my mother. So let's not act all high and mighty."

"Do you really think that excuses you from every little thing you have done against us?"

"I am not talking about our spats, Granger. And I'm not talking about excuses. But it will be great if you and your little pals stop treating us like trash, simply because we're Slytherins."

"Oh no, Malfoy, I didn't think you were trash because you were a Slytherin. I thought you were trash because you were nothing but a spiteful, bullying little ferret."

Furious, and not thinking, Draco drew his wand and sent a spell at her. Hermione only just managed to block it in time, but then sent her own at him. Perhaps it was a testimony to their having matured through the war that their spells were wordless.


	9. Something Tangible

**Something tangible**

Wave after wave of panic and confusion washed over him. He desperately clawed at his shirt, until, thankfully, mercifully, it was open. His hands were shaking by the time he fumbled with the tap. Water, fresh and clear, gurgled as it ran into the basin.

And then he felt involuntary tears spilling down his cheek. He was crying without meaning to.

 _Stop,_ he told himself. _Please stop,_ he begged _._ Except, it didn't work.

He splashed the water again and again on his face. Again and again. It was not enough, and he could already feel a certain tightening in his chest. A feeling as though he were dying.

Draco sensed her before he saw her. Through a haze, he looked up in the mirror to find Hermione standing only a few feet away, leaning against the doorframe, and her arms folded across her chest.

She stood perfectly still, unfazed **.** She watched him silently as though the episode in front of her was the most natural phenomenon in the world.

He focused on her . Her eyes didn't seem to be judging. Her smile didn't waver. Yes, a smile. She was probably the only living being awake in the entire castle, apart from him. In the land of the sleeping, they alone were awake. And she didn't seem to be judging him. And so he focused on her.

And then she quietly moved forward.

Draco followed her through the mirror with his eyes.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him immediately tense under her fingers.

"Easy," she said, softly.

"It's alright," Hermione was saying."Deep breaths." And for some reason, or perhaps because he needed to, he obeyed, never trusting to keep his eyes off her in the mirror, as though she were an apparition who would quickly vanish if he did.

Somehow that seemed to soothe him. The human touch. Something tangible in the web of intangibles. And he clung to it like a drowning man would cling to a floating debris.

He wanted to speak, then. Something, anything. He tried.

"Granger..." he croaked. His voice sounding foreign even to him. "I- I'm-"

"No," she said **.**

And then, she placed a flagon on the sink. "This will help," she said, before leaving.

Desperate,he made a mad grab for it, and upended it over his mouth. The warm liquid trickleddown his throat. It had an immediate effect on him. He felt himself relax. The constriction in his chest, in him, gone.

And then, sinking down against the wall, he sobbed quietly.


	10. Soul Searching

For the next few days, Hermione seemed unable to look at Draco or meet his eyes. He didn't seem to have noticed, since they didn't speak to each other much, anyway. Which was a good thing. Hermione was afraid that if she so much as turned in his direction, he would figure out that she _knew._

After the incident at the bathroom, Hermione had been unable to think of anything else. That is, whenever she wasn't studying, or working on assignments.

It made her wonder how many of the other Eighth Years had a similar secret or even a dark past. In fact, she found herself wondering that about every Slytherin she met.

How many of them lived with secrets and lies underneath a mask of pride? How many who put on the veneer of bravery or malice but struggled with deep insecurities inside?

Curiously, it also made her think of the reverse.

Were there Gryffindors who put on a face of civility, but were really rotten underneath it? Vaguely, the image of Peter Pettigrew took shape in her mind.

Of course.

You can never really tell with people. Perhaps, everyone had light and dark inside them. What was it that Sirius had said?

 _We all have light and dark inside us. It depends on which side we choose to act upon._

 __Maybe there were also moments when there was no choice.

She had her own demons to deal with. Sometimes, she had nightmares about losing her parents in a crowded city. She would try to call out to them, but no words would come out of her mouth. And sometimes she would shout and they would turn around to look at her, but wouldn't recognise her.

She had decided to wait till she completed her Eighth Year before she went looking for her parents. Kingsley had offered to help her. But she had declined politely. Finding her parents was as much about doing a bit of soul searching as it was about bringing them home.

Other times, it was the night at the Manor. The hateful, fearful cackling of a witch as she carved words into her arm. And of being in inexplicable pain as she writhed on the cold hard floor.

But these were nothing compared to what she had witnessed.

Hermione briefly wondered what kind of nightmare triggered Malfoy's break down.


	11. Realisations

Hermione like to read late into night, because it gave her some time alone. To think and to relax. To recharge. She like the feeling of having the entire castle to herself.

It was late at night. Probably a little past midnight. Hermione was curled up in the sofa, reading, helped by the illuminated end of her wand, when she heard someone stumbling into the room.

The figure did not see her, but rushed past her into the common bathroom. The door was not closed completely, so the light spilled into the dark common room where Hermione was sitting.

She was about to return to her reading when she stopped.

It sounded like someone was choking in there. Concerned, Hermione made her way to the bathroom to make sure that whoever it was, was alright.

The sight she found chilled her to the very bones.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Except, it didn't look like him at all. Rather, it was the face, the body, the hair of Draco Malfoy. And quivering inside that shell was a person, a mess, who was crying into the sink and trying to mask it with the sound of running water from an open tap.

His tie was pried loose, for he hadn't yet changed. His collar was torn open, as though there had been no time to unbutton it. His head was bowed, and he was taking several short breaths. He splashed water onto his face. It didn't seem to help, but he kept at it, until his shirt was drenched. He placed his arms over the sink as though to support himself.

The person standing in front of the mirror was having a panic attack.

Hermione was rooted to the spot, unable to move.

And then, Malfoy made as though to straighten up, and Hermione fled.

Thoroughly horrified, she ran back to the girls' dormitory forgetting her book where she had left it, as though she were being chased by a shadow.

She bolted the door behind her, her heart pounding wildly inside her chest. When she had sufficiently calmed down, she made her way to her bed. Once safely under the covers, she reflected on what she had just witnessed, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.

 _Focus, focus,_ she told herself. She needed to focus. She forced herself tolook at each thread one by one. That would calm her down. Analysing something always did.

Try as she might, she couldn't shake off the image of a shaking and sobbing Draco Malfoy.

She sat up, remembering vaguely that Harry had narrated something similar to her and Ron in their sixth year.

This, witnessing it first hand, had been far, _far_ worse.

There was none of the suave, none of the arrogance. There was only fear, pain and panic emanating from him. There was only a broken human being before her.

 _How far the mighty have fallen_ , she thought and immediately chided herself. Even the Malfoys were human beings. Even they feel.

Focus.

It was the pure shock of seeing someone confident and arrogant reduced to a sobbing mess, she told herself. And the fact that she now felt sorry for someone who had always been her enemy.

Enemy. Come to think of it. Had he ever been an enemy, though? They sure had their many differences and spats throughout the school years. Those was normal. They were young and had many differences. Having fought a war, she had assumed that knew what an enemy looked like. The word now left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Draco had never been the enemy. He was proud, arrogant, spoilt, and a bully, but those were the results of his lofty upbringing, rather than characteristics of his malice.

She realised suddenly that she was being unexpectedly sympathetic towards someone who has always despised her.

It was just common decency. Basic humanity. She told herself 's why it affected her so much.

But then, it wasn't exactly true.

Perhaps the truth was that the only person you could afford to know about as much as your best friend is your worst enemy.

 _No, not an enemy. A house rival. A pureblood maniac. But not an enemy._

And she had already defeated the enemy.

No one really escaped the War unscathed, she always knew that, of course. But up until now, she thought it was a sentiment that only applied to the winning side. To her.

For the first time ever, Hermione was realising that Draco was as much a casualty of the war as she was. That Draco Malfoy was battling invisible demons that probably have been chasing him every night since the War.


	12. Choices

**Choices**

Hermione had made her choice the day she erased her parents' memory. And she made it again when Ron left Harry at the forest. She always knew what needed to be done. And her conscience was clear.

Perhaps that's the root of all problems. Maybe it all came down to it. Choices. Or the lack thereof.

* * *

Perhaps it all boiled down to the choices one made.

If only his father had chosen better and not sided with someone like the Dark Lord. If only he had changed sides and gone to Dumbledore for help. Then, perhaps, Dumbledore would have lived. Together with Harry, he would vanquished the Dark Lord much sooner.

And Crabbe would still be alive.


	13. Ferret

"So, is the little ferret giving you any trouble?" Ron asked. Hermione flinched at his choice of words.

"No," Hermione said. "You could try and call him by his name, you know. He is a person, no different from us."

Ron bursts out laughing. "Yes, he is. They are killers and torturers, the whole lot. Or have you forgotten?"

Hermione subconsciously touched where Bella had carved into her skin, and replied.

"That was Bellatrix, remember? Draco Malfoy had nothing to do with it."

Harry looked curiously between the two of them.

"Whatever," Ron said. "Same difference." He scowled and proceeded to leave the table to look for Madam Rosmerta as Hermione continued to glare at him.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Harry turned to her.

"You weren't there, Hermione. You should have seen him that night when you were being…you know. It was really hard for him. I mean, he was scared. He was shaken...Honestly, I don't think he is ever going to forgive the Malfoys for what happened in the manor."

Hermione was silent at the revelation.

"Well," she said. "I suppose that was traumatic."

"It was."

"It still doesn't excuse him, though."

"It doesn't."

They sipped the firewhiskey quietly until Ron returned.


	14. Duelling Lessons

"You do pretty darn well when you're under pressure or angry. Perhaps that helped you during the war. But the problem is you can't always wait till your life's in danger before you start to fight seriously. You need to _want_ to go into a battle wanting to take someone's eye out.

Your mistake is, you care too much. At the wrong time. And not every opponent of yours is going to care _back_. You need to _want_ to hurt him. Cripple him. Disable him. So factor out the _care,_ and you've already won half the duel."

Draco was instructing her, and doing a thorough job of it. It reminded her of Professor McGonagall herself. 

"Wow, you seem to be quite good at this."

"Yeah, well, I learnt from the best." And then Draco stopped, his smirk faded a little, and turned away.

"You mean your aunt, don't you? Bellatrix." Hermione asked shrewdly. She absently touched her scar.

"Sure."

"She left quite a mark on me," Hermione said, looking down and straightening her sleeve.

"I know," he suddenly snapped. "I was there, remember?"

Hermione looked up. "I'm not blaming you, Malfoy." It just occurred to her that Draco was as much affected by that night as she was.

"I'm assuming that you had to endure a lot of such incidents when Voldemort took over your home."

Draco turned around to look at her. And then slowly, nodded his head.

"Well, I guess we all have our battle scars," Hermione said.

"Now, let's continue with the duelling."


	15. Theodore Nott

Theo smirked at that.

"Yeah, Crabbe and Goyle were purebloods and all, but they were dumber than a flobberworm."

"Maybe you should have graced me with the pleasure of your company, if you were so concerned," Draco replied, heatedly.

"I was trying hard not to stain my own reputation by mixing with folks like you. I mean pureblood supremacy is one thing, but a Death Eater for a dad…?"

"You're one to talk"

"I haven't spoken to mine in years, Malfoy. I had a chance to redeem myself during the war and I took it. Unlike you."

"Not another word, Nott."

"Or what, you'll _fiendfyre_ me?"

That set Draco off, but before he could do anything, Theo whipped his wand around and blasted him off to the other side of the room. Then, in the same wand movement, he quickly cushions the fall with a spell.

"What do you know?" Theo said calmly, "I should probably drop out. They've probably got nothing left to teach me here."

Saying so, he walked away.

Draco cursed as he sat up. "Son of a … _bloody git_."


	16. Wizarding Confederation

"Your Death Eaters have been causing trouble in our soil!" accused the Bulgarian minister. "This is your mess. You have to clean it up."

"I think that is most unfair, Minister," Kingsley said. "When Grindelwald was out causing trouble in Europe, we never blamed Bulgaria for it. And not only that, we helped the European ministries in defeating him, despite him never having caused any trouble in Britain."

The Bulgarian minister threw down the translating device and replied furiously in English.

"That's because deep down the British Ministry knew it was their fault. I have read enough about Dumbledore to know that it was he who turned both Grindelwald and Voldemort to the dark side."

There was a collective gasp in the hall. Kingsley gritted his teeth.

"Order!, order!" The speaker silenced the crowd.

Kingsley replied with a forced calm. "You've been reading lies,"

"I'm not responsible for the British press lying to its own people."

"Enough with the blame games," said the speaker. "We are here to work together towards a solution."


	17. Full Transparency

Draco was drinking some tea opposite her.

"Want some?"

Hermione looked up from her work, surprised.

"I assure you no house elves were harmed in the process."

She smiled. "I would like some, thanks."

He conjured a cup of tea and brought it to her.

"How are you doing, Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Better. I suppose. It's like reliving the whole war, you know, sometimes."

"I know. That's why I asked."

"You've been pretty brave."

Draco smirked. "You don't have to pity me, Granger."

"I'm not. I can't imagine being in a position where my actions would decide my parents' fate."

He didn't reply.

"I thought we were all doomed." he said. "That the Dark Lord would kill either me or my parents in the end."

"I see."

"How long is this going to continue?" he asked, motioning towards the photographers.

"Quite long, actually. We are accounting for every atrocity Voldemort has or is suspected of having committed. And full transparency. And stuff like that."

"It's never going to be back to normal again, then."

"It doesn't have to be. It can be a fresh new start."

"Easy for you. You are the hero of this fresh new world."

"Well, then, it makes sense to actually listen to me **,** don't you think?"

Draco smiled, then. A rare phenomenon. And it was rather nice to see. Better than the usual smirk, anyway.


	18. Pansy Parkinson

Their laughter rang out, carrying all the way up to the girls' dormitory, where four girls were sleeping and one was not.

The lone girl who wasn't, went into the bathroom, standing before the big mirror and taking a long look at her reflection. 

Pansy turned to a side, trying to adjust her night dress **.** And then to another. Still not satisfied, and cursing, she slowly lifted up her shirt to reveal her navel. She placed her palm against the exposed flesh as though to determine if she had eaten too much at dinner.

Then pulling it down again, and satisfied, she tucked her hair behind her ears, cast a charm to keep them there and turned back to her dormitory.


	19. Oddity

"You're an odd little thing, aren't you?" Theo asked.

"Aren't we all?" Luna said, looking up at him. "Maybe some of us just hide it better."


	20. Part of the Process

"But Kingsley, I don't think that's very fair!" Hermione exclaimed.

Kingsley sighed.

"Now that I'm a minister I find I have very little say on such matters," he said. "I have a responsibility to keep the entire Wizarding Britain safe, not just the Chosen Ones." Hermione blushed hard at that, furious. "Even if it means giving in to some demands."

"Think of it as an opportunity or a lesson."

"If we aren't careful, Minister, we will simply be replacing one evil with another," Hermione said.

Kingsley considered it for some time.

"Hermione," he said at last. "How would you like to be part of the process?"


End file.
